


Studded

by randi2204



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: 3K Round-up Challenge, Belts, Blow Jobs, Clothing Kink, M/M, Mild Kink, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:59:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7653037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/pseuds/randi2204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ezra was never subtle about how much he loved Chris’s black, studded belt.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Studded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [warqueenfuriosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/warqueenfuriosa/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** They belong to MGM, Mirisch, and Trilogy, not me. Woes.

“Leave it on,” Ezra said, a note in his voice that Chris couldn’t immediately identify.

 

He paused in taking off his gun belt, in the act of drawing the long end back through the buckle, and studied Ezra for a moment.  Ezra’s eyes were bright – but then, they usually were whenever Chris started taking off clothes.  Those gleaming eyes were fixed on Chris’s hands where they lay unmoving.  He licked his lips, and the sight, so familiar, that flash of tongue moistening his lips, made Chris _want_.

 

“Not going to be able to take off my pants if I don’t take off the belt,” Chris said mildly, but he still didn’t move, waiting to see what Ezra wanted to do next.

 

Ezra’s eyes flicked away from Chris’s hands to meet his gaze.  Whatever was in his expression sent a shiver through Ezra’s frame and he clearly had to marshal his thoughts again.  “No, I… Here, let me…” Still in his drawers, he slipped from the bed to his knees in front of Chris, his hands reaching for the waist of Chris’s pants.

 

Chris closed his eyes, unable to stop himself from groaning.  Ezra on his knees set fire to Chris’s need, fanned it even higher, if that were possible.  But closing his eyes didn’t help; he could still feel those long, dexterous fingers stroking the front of his pants, undoing each button of his fly with torturous slowness just to draw out the moment.  His own fingers tightened where they gripped his gun belt, and the buckle chimed quietly.

 

After getting his pants open, Ezra peeled them down only a little bit – not even down over his ass, and anyway, his tie-down was still snug around his thigh.  “Ezra…”

 

“Now, buckle it again,” Ezra ordered, his voice sounding a little strained.  His hands lingered at Chris’s hips, lightly framing them.

 

Chris frowned slightly, opened his eyes to peer down at Ezra, but Ezra was staring at his hands again.  Slowly, Chris drew the belt into place around his waist again, slid the prong into its accustomed hole so that it was fastened securely.  It wasn’t as snug as he was used to, not being over the waist of his trousers, but that was all right, too, since the leather wasn’t exactly comfortable where it lay against his skin.

 

“Yes,” Ezra breathed, and immediately his fingers smoothed over the belt, circling each silver concho, each stud, tracing the grain of the leather.

 

For a moment, Chris thought that Ezra’s hands would wander naturally from the leather belt to his skin, to stroke and swirl, tease and arouse, but they didn’t; they never strayed from the belt, now trailing over the loops for spare bullets.  Ezra pressed his face against Chris’s belly as he reached around, making the buckle dig into his skin.  When he pulled back again, its shape was imprinted into his cheek, faint red lines that disappeared as Chris ran his thumb over them.

 

Then Ezra’s nimble fingers were on his fly again, undoing the rest of his buttons and drawing out his sex, and Chris moaned in relief, pleasure shivering down his spine at Ezra’s touch.  He arched forward in spite of himself, seeking more.

 

Ezra shucked Chris’s pants down a little further, just enough that his sex was entirely free.  One hand curled loosely around Chris’s cock, moving up and down but not tight enough to give any release.  “Ezra…”

 

That hand gripped more firmly, then Ezra’s head bobbed forward, and Chris closed his eyes again, sighing “Oh, God, yes,” as Ezra’s mouth engulfed the head of his cock.  It was all heat and wet and _perfect_ , swirling tongue and the hint of teeth scraping along the length of him. 

 

Chris combed his fingers into Ezra’s hair, trying to keep his touch light, because any hint that he wanted to hold Ezra’s head still or try to position him would see him pushed away.  Ezra worked up and back, taking in more of his cock with each slide forward, laving with his tongue each slide back, riding out the stutter of Chris’s hips as he tried to stop from thrusting.

 

Then, oh Lord, both of Ezra’s hands were on Chris’s gun belt again, and it was just like they were on his flesh, and Ezra rocked back and forth, his mouth creating delicious suction around Chris’s  sex.  Pleasure coursed through him, and panting, Chris had to take his hands away from Ezra’s hair.  He leaned forward slightly to rest them on his shoulders instead, his fingers digging into the muscle there.

 

Ezra hummed an approving noise that thrummed through his cock and wound Chris’s arousal even tighter.  A wordless sound rose in his throat, part gasp, part groan, as Ezra’s fingers clenched around the leather of his gun belt and guided him with shallow thrusts into his mouth.  When he glanced down, he was transfixed by Ezra’s head bobbing in counterpoint to his hips, by the sweep of his eyelashes against his red cheeks, but most of all by the sight of his own sex sliding in and out of Ezra’s mouth, his lips shiny and pink and stretched around his cock.  Heat and pleasure coiled in his stomach, at the base of his spine, his whole body going taut.  His hands clamped on Ezra’s broad shoulders, but he couldn’t bring himself to push him away. “Ezra… stop,” he gritted out, “’m gonna…”

 

Ezra didn’t pull off, didn’t let go his belt, just slewed a look at him, green eyes half open, and Chris’s climax rolled over him, wave after wave until he felt wrung dry, bonelessly exhausted.  Only when his cock began to soften did Ezra release it, but his hands still held Chris’s gun belt, fingers tracing the conchos once more.

 

Chris ran a hand gently through Ezra’s hair.  Ezra blinked up at him, then slowly let his hands fall away from the gun belt, shifting off his knees and grimacing as he did.

 

“You all right?”

 

“I’m fine,” Ezra replied, his drawl honey-slow.  “Though I may have proven myself an untutored youth who has never known the… joys of life.”

 

Still a bit sluggish, Chris blinked at his words, but grabbed Ezra’s hand when he held it up and pulled him to his feet.  Belatedly, he noticed that the front of Ezra’s drawers were damp with his own spending.

 

“Go on, wash up,” he said, giving Ezra a nudge toward the pitcher and basin.  “Then come on to bed.”

 

Ezra stripped off his drawers and splashed a moment in the basin, but he was watching in the mirror as Chris undid his gun belt and coiled it on the chair by the bed.

 

Once in bed, Chris stretched out an arm to turn down the lamp.  Darkness settled over them, and they curled up together, familiar and comfortable.  Ezra’s breaths were settling toward sleep when Chris whispered in his ear, “Might be willing to wear just the gun belt for you… if you ask nice.”

 

“Oh, Mister Larabee,” came Ezra’s sleepy reply.  “I can ask very nice indeed.”

 

***

July 24, 2016

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for the [fic_promptly](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/) prompt [Magnificent Seven, Chris Larabee/Ezra Standish, Ezra was never subtle about how much he loved Chris’s black, studded belt.](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/452086.html?thread=14086134#cmt14086134)


End file.
